Hoist The Colours
by danglingdingle
Summary: Captains Turner and Sparrow have a few words about Will's new flag. Jack/Will slash. Disclaimer: Disney's characters used here for no profit whatsoever.


"'We're ready to kill you', then, is it? Didn't take long." Jack looked thoroughly suspicious, tossing the bundle in his arms onto the Captain's table aboard the Flying Dutchman, and took a hasty, wary step away. "Never would've thought you'd go down that particular route, William."

"What are you talking about, Jack?" Sincerely confused, Will rose from his chair, fumbling with the bundle, excited to finally have his new flag delivered, after months of settling for the design, and then waiting for the wives in Tortuga to finish it.

"Don't act oblivious, Will, that never really was a very fetching sight."

"I'm not." Will shook his head, befuddled, sorely hurt Jack didn't participate in his joy. "What's wrong?"

"The flag, that's what's wrong. Merciless, painful death, that's what's wrong. And it's not even yours! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do, elsewhere to be, than sit here in the company of a corrupt Ferryman-pirate."

"Jack, wait!" Will was beginning to find the reason for Jack's oddity. This time, that is. "Did you see all of it?"

"Well…not exactly."

"You saw Tew's insignia, but not mine, is that it?"

"Yours?"

"The heart, Jack." Will turned the pile of black cloth, unraveling corners, trying to find something.

"Of course I saw that! 'Merciless, painful, death', remember?" Jack grimaced at the words, shuddering melodramatically at the last one. When Will had asked him to fetch a parcel from Tortuga, this had not been what he'd expected.

"It's not like that. The heart's not pierced or stabbed, but a whole heart. Compassion, Jack, a sign of relief." Will took a corner of the flag and handed it to Jack, stepping in another direction himself, happily unfurling his very own Jolly Roger.

"That's not what people know. The sailors, the men of the sea, they see only fear and suffering. They're afraid of the Dutchman as it is." Jack only stood there, the corner of the flag hanging limply, a tremor of trepidation creeping up his neck at the arm holding a sword revealed, knowing too well what the time served on the other side could do to a man. The thought of Will having been affected wore him worse than his nightmares.

"I know, birdie," Will sighed, suspicious that Jack was only being indignant since Will hadn't asked his educated opinion in the first place. It was something Will had to decide on his own. "But people will learn, they'll get used to it. Times have changed. Tew's dead, Jack. Jones is dead. We're alive."

Will eyed the design with a fond smile on his lips, "Besides, you stole yours from Avery, and only added your own flavor of freedom."

"Pirate?" Jack tried, umbrageously, seeing logic in Will's pattern of thought, the red heart at his fingertips suddenly seeming friendlier. Warmer… Fitting, really…

"Swift death, for those who must die, isn't that what anyone would wish for?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"So promising that to the dying is terrifying you because…?"

"It's not a matter of-"

"You can't die."

"Not that we know of," Jack raised a finger to pause the lecture that was making him highly uncomfortable. Having been dead only so many months ago was still too close for his comfort.

"Jack." Beginning to fold the jack, Will kept his eyes on his immortal lover, hoping to look mollifying enough to pacify whatever fears it were that actually caused the situation. "If you would," Will grew closer with each fold, then halted to re-think his words. "If you could die, would you not give your life into my hands?"

"Haven't I, before?" Jack's tone had placated, Will's behavior being so familiar, his gaze, his movements so Will-like, instead of that of a cruel monster just waiting to drag him down. He'd have to get used to the way things had turned out. Might as well start now.

Another step, and another sliver of the flag disappeared under Will's hands, the brim of the cloth sweeping the deck. "And do you have any complaints?" There was lightness in Will's voice, something that eased even the most difficult of subjects to their reach, to their understanding, that there was not a thing they could not talk about. Those times were in the past. A past they could not afford to hold onto. Not anymore.

"None whatsoever." Straightening his back, and doing not much more, Jack only waited for Will to step closer, and the threatening sword to be gone. 'Ready to kill.' Admittedly, it was easier to breath the nearer Will came.

Halting, Will tilted his head with a worried frown decorating his forehead. "No," he studied Jack intensely, "It's not my job to make that decision, who lives, and who dies. All I do is reap what has already been sowed."

The words felt to fall to a fertile ground, as Jack slowly lifted a considering hand to smooth over the red dye, admiring the handiwork of the hard labouring fishwives.

Will continued to gather the flag, each further wimple undressing Jack of his remaining guard, until the men stood face to face, half a heart away.

Silent, Jack stroked his almost surreptitious fingers over Will's hand, and over, drawing the man to him, together with the last plication. Ever quiet, agreeing with what Will had brought on the table, the insignia of Captain William Turner of the Flying Dutchman began to sit better with Jack, the arm now no more frightening than the arms of the man before him, the heart less bleeding for pain than it was promising relief, the sword…the very blade which always saved Jack himself.

"Aye." Softly, Jack wrapped an arm around the Jolly Roger, around Will, and held them to him, sealing his conclusions with a kiss from the lips of the one man who's name was to be established. And damned be, Jack Sparrow, if he didn't do his best to do just that. "C'mon, Captain Turner. Let's get these colours hoisted high."


End file.
